Sanguine Tutelam
by GallifreyanMaiden
Summary: Nearly fifteen years after the Final Battle, Hermione and Ron live a quiet life in Godric's Hollow: but there is no rest for the wicked and, for wizards, blood is serious business. Hermione will discover incredible truths about her parents as she and Ron strive to protect them. Will Hogwart's resident bookworm be able to open her heart to new kinds of magic?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1- An Ordinary Day

A/N- Welcome and thank you for reading my little crack-fic! A standard note before we begin, I will try to adhere to cannon where possible, but both 'verses will have to give a bit in order to properly meld the two. I implore you to suspend your disbelief a bit for the benefit of a good read.

On with the show!

…

Hermione Jean Granger peered out of the kitchen window of the modest cottage she shared with her family in Godric's Hollow. A smile slowly spread across her face as she watched her daughter, Rosie, playing with her son, little Hugo. Well, not so little anymore, Hermione observed; he seemed to grow every day. Soon, too soon for Hermione's liking, all of his precious baby fat would flee, leaving him a tall, gangly boy, just as his father had been.

As if her mere thoughts were a summons, Hermione's husband appeared behind her, winding his arms around her and kissing the nape of her neck.

"What's on for supper tonight, love?" he asked, ever the master of seduction.

She laughed uproariously, grabbed a wooden spoon and smacked at his wandering hands.

"You'll find out soon enough," she chided, turning about and pushing lightly against his chest, "Is this all I am to you now? Your personal chef?"

He smiled wolfishly at her, "Never," he replied, his voice husky with desire as he took a small step forward.

Hermione simply laughed again, like a tinkling bell, pecking him lightly on the lips before replying, "The children are outside, Ronald, and supper will be ready soon," before he turned she smiled invitingly and said, "However, you can most certainly show me exactly what I am to you after we put the children to bed for the evening."

Ron's smile could have lit the town as he left the room, whistling some indistinctly cheerful tune.

Hermione found herself unconsciously joining him. It was an ordinary day for the Weasley family. Ordinary, yet uncommonly good. Not a thing could upset Hermione on this warm spring day.

Little did she know that this was just the calm before a very big storm.

As she started to lay out the dishes, she felt an icy cold breeze tousle her thick brown hair and kiss the back of her neck. Hermione shuddered, thinking that a thunderstorm must be blowing in for the night. She placed the dishes on the table and moved to call Rose and Hugo in.

At least, she tried.

She pulled with all her might, but her legs were rooted to the spot.

"Ron!" she called out, horrified, before setting to work muttering every spell she could think of to free herself.

Ron rushed forward, eyes wide, wand drawn. Meanwhile, a horrifying numbness began to move up Hermione's legs.

Hermione said in a strained, thin voice as she looked at Ron and said, "I need Saint Mungo's. Lift me up and tell Rose and Hugo to run to Harry and Ginny's. Make sure they know where we're going, so that Harry and Ginny can check in when they need to."

Ron was now just as pale as his wife. He lifted the short, thin brunette with ease and told his children to go to their aunt and uncle's. Ron held Hermione tightly; she could no longer move below her shoulders and her eyes were wide with fear. Before he could move to apparate, she shouted, "Ron! Wait! My wand!" He gave her a wan smile as he grabbed the vinewood wand; Hermione could no longer even nod in gratitude, she was completely immobile. Then, with a sudden crack, they both vanished.

…

Ron and Hermione dropped hard to the floor of some unknown forest. Before she knew what she was doing Hermione let out a low moan. Her eyes then cracked open even wider, "Ron!" she exclaimed, jostling her husband, "I can move!"

In a flash, he was on his knees, hugging her fiercely, "Don't you ever scare me like that again."

Hermione appeared to be in shock, "I just wish I knew what had caused it," she whispered, shaking her head. Ron nodded emphatically.

For the first time, it seemed, Hermione, took in her surroundings, "Ronald," she said, her voice cautious, low, "Where are we?"

Ron looked around, only now noticing anything other than his wife, "I-I don't know," he replied, "I meant to get us right into Saint Mungo's."

"Give me my wand," she answered, in that same deadly calm. It was not a request. She looked around cagily, ready to attack. It reminded Ron too much of that year spent hunting Horcruxes.

Finally, she read the sign across the way. It was a simple highway sign reading:

Storybrooke

5 miles

Hermione pursed her lips the way she always did when she was thinking. How long was five miles anyway, thought Ron. He certainly didn't know. He was fairly certain that it was less than five kilometers, but he couldn't be completely sure. He was often wrong about such things. Even if he was right, he didn't know how much shorter it was.

While Ron had been caught up in his thoughts, Hermione's eyes had shifted towards the sky. She shaded them from the lingering sun that was slowly, but surly, beginning to sink.

"Come on," she said, eventually, "Wherever we are, I think it's in a different time zone. It's not as late here as it was at home. The sun is still high, see?" she said, pointing to the sky, "If I hand to guess where we are, I'd say somewhere on the east coast of the US or maybe even in Canada."

Ron was so confused. As a wizard raised, he knew that one of the first rules of apparition was to not even risk it across oceans. How were he and Hermione not splinched to bits? Seemingly reading his thoughts (she was good at that) Hermione just shook her head.

"I don't understand it either. Come on. If we start off now there's no reason that we shouldn't get there well before dark."

…

A/N- This takes place more or less four years prior to '19 Years Later' in the HP universe and right after 'Lacey' in OUAT reckoning. I am attempting to stick to cannon with regards to timing and ages and that sort of thing; therefore, Rose is 7, Hugo is 5 and Ron and Hermione are both 32. The same idea will apply to the characters of OUAT.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2- Different, Yet the Same

…

Ron and Hermione had been walking along the stretch of highway for about an hour. Ron smiled grimly. Hermione had been right; it might take them another hour to reach the town, but they would do it well before night fell. Hermione had withdrawn into herself. Ron knew that it bothered her that she didn't know why they were here.

It was another few minutes before Ron chose to break the silence that had fallen between them, "So, what are we going to do? When we get to this town? We don't have any muggle money; it's not like we can spend the night in one of those muggle hotels."

Hermione looked up at him and replied, "First thing is first, we find out where we are. I've narrowed it down a bit, but we need to figure out where the closest wizarding area is. I've done some reading on it; there are a number of them in the US, just because the country is so big. It wouldn't make sense to portkey to New York if we're closer to Boston."

Here, Ron interrupted her, "Portkey? Why not just apparate?"

She just rolled her eyes, "I've never been to the US, Ronald, have you? I'd rather not make a bad situation worse by splinching myself. In any case, after we've firmed up where and when we are-"

"When!?" Ron exclaimed, looking alarmed.

Hermione was nonplussed, "Yes, Ronald, when. I think that we just crossed time zones, but I can't be sure, can I? I don't even know what's actually happened. So, after that, we'll need to make some calls...you know, to my parents and to Harry and Ginny. That's the easy bit. Muggle police are usually pretty good about that sort of thing to lost hikers and whatnot…which reminds me," with an insistent flick of Hermione's wand, their clothes transformed into hiking gear. She then picked up a pair of stones and turned them into packs, quickly filling the water bottles that hung off the sides. Pursing her lips, she tried to remember if she'd forgotten anything. Nodding, she quickly transfigured a pair of leaves into slim wand holsters that they could hide under their clothes. She handed a pack and a holster to Ron who secured them quickly.

Hermione nodded her approval, "Good. Now, you'll have to let me do the talking. On the phone as well. I'm going to have to be a bit…creative about how I tell Harry and Ginny what happened. I'd rather not have to Confund a room full of muggles. After we get to a wizarding town, things will be easier."

Ron agreed with her and they walked the rest of the way to town in silence.

…

When Ron and Hermione finally crossed the town line into Storybrooke they both stopped for a moment and looked at one another with trepidation. They had just passed through something…and it was odd. It was not magic, at least not as Ron and Hermione understood it. It was not controlled as the magic they knew- it was far wilder, almost feral. This magic seemed to have a life of its own; it was as if the walls of magic had just grown from the trees, rather than being mapped and planted by a wizard.

"Were those wards?" asked Ron, befuddled.

"I don't know," Hermione responded, beginning to chew her lip again, "I don't think so. If they were, they weren't much good, were they?"

"There can't be a wizarding village out here…can there?"

Hermione shook her head forcefully, "I don't think so. Americans and Canadians tend to keep their wizarding communities hidden in larger cities, like we do with Diagon Alley. There are exceptions, of course, as you move out to less populated bits of the country, but I really don't think we're that far out."

"But, then, what-"

"I don't know, Ron," Hermione whispered. She was exhausted, confused and rather upset, "I think that we should just stick to the plan and portkey out of here as soon as we can…I don't like the feel of this place," she shuddered.

Ron nodded, they made the last stretch of their journey into town and walked down the main road, trying their best to look a bit worn out, but still chipper, like hikers who had wandered off the trail for a few hours. Hermione saw a newsstand and walked up to it casually, picking up a paper. Just as she'd suspected. They had not traveled in time, thankfully. She wouldn't have to worry when she called Harry and Ginny…although they must be in a right state by now.

"Excuse me," she said, giving a toothy smile to the man running the stand, "My husband and I seem to have gotten a bit lost. We started hiking around the state line, and we really have no idea where we are."

She attributed his look of surprise to her own exhaustion and an over-active imagination, "Maine. Storybrooke, Maine," he replied.

"Thank you so very much, that helps a lot," she replied, her smile still wide and bright. She nodded to Ron as they continued to walk down the street.

Then, suddenly, she stopped.

Walking towards them on the other side of the sidewalk were two people, a man and a woman. The man walked with a cane and was of middling height; not so tall as Ron, but by no means short. The woman was about as tall as he was in heels- she looked like she might be a head shorter without them. The woman was quite pretty, with long, glossy brown curls and creamy skin. Hermione thought that she would have looked even better if she were less caked in makeup. The man was a bit older, more distinguished looking; in his late thirties or early forties if Hermione had to take a stab at it. He had longish hair that was just beginning to gray; you could still see that it had once been a rather magnificent golden brown. The shade caused Hermione to involuntarily run a hand through her own mass of bushy curls. Her mouth hung open and her eyes went wide.

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered under his breath.

"Oh my," Hermione murmured, as a hand rose to her mouth in shock.

Meanwhile, the man's shoulder clipped Hermione as he continued on his was with the woman; he grunted, annoyed, turning to grumble a perfunctory apology.

"My apologi-" his eyebrows hitched slightly and he cut himself off.

Hermione was curious. She knew that was no trick of her imagination. Was it possible that he recognized her? No, that was impossible. This man was younger than she'd ever remembered her father being.

The man who so resembled her father started again, "Forgive me, but I don't recognize you. Are you from out of town, perchance?"

Again, that wide, toothy grin, "We're not, actually. My husband and I, we were hiking near the state line and got a bit lost, you see. I understand we're in Maine? Is there a phone we could use somewhere?"

He smiled; a brittle facsimile of a smile that Hermione found disturbing to see on her father's face. She barely held back a shudder.

"Of course, Missus…"

"It's 'Miss' actually. Miss Granger," she could feel Ron rolling his eyes.

"Of course. Miss Granger," that same, unnatural smile…the same effort to not shudder, "And your husband is…"

"Ron," Ron chimed in, extending a hand, "Ron Weasley."

The man who so unsettled Hermione took Ron's hand and shook it briefly, "I am Mr. Gold."

"And I'm Lacey," interjected the woman next to him. Hermione found it hard to connect this woman with her mother. Her mother was a woman with a rapier wit and a passion for learning. Not some…bar slag.

"Now," said Mr. Gold in what Hermione assumed was meant to be taken as a friendly tone, "I can take you to the sheriff's station, if you'd like? You can place the calls you need to from there."

Hermione beamed, "Thank you. That would be lovely."

"Right this way, then," he said, gesturing with the hand not atop his cane, "Not to be rude but you don't sound as if you're from around here."

"Nor do you," she returned, lightly, "We're from the UK, taking a bit of a holiday."

"Ah," he replied, "Well, here we are. Please, let me escort you in."

Hermione could think of no reason to turn him away. Gold opened the door and gestured for Ron and Hermione to go first. The sheriff's office was small, run only by a small blonde woman at a desk, doing a bit of paperwork.

"Yes?" she said turning around, looking bemused when she saw them. Ron and Hermione risked a quick look at one another. There was something off about this town.

Hermione stepped forward, "Hello," she said, getting sick of repeating the story, "My husband and I were hiking around the state line when we got a bit lost. This is the first town we've run into. Can we place some calls?"

"Of-of course," the blonde responded, sharing a significant look with Gold that was not missed by the pair of wizards, "Oh, I'm being rude, I should introduce myself- I'm Emma Swann, the sheriff of Storybrooke."

Both Ron and Hermione shook her hand in turn, introducing themselves.

"I'll place the calls, darling," said Hermione, kissing Ron on the cheek. She quickly dialed Harry and Ginny, thankful that the pair kept a telephone in their home for emergency.

"Hello?" she said when she heard the phone pick up, her voice calculatedly cheerful.

"Hermione!?" screamed Ginny on the other end of the line, "What's going on? Rose and Hugo came over saying that you had gone to Saint Mungo's, but when we firecalled, they said-"

She cut Ginny off quickly, "Oh, yes, you know that Ron and I went on this little hiking holiday in the US…well, we got off the trail a bit and long story short we're now in Storybrooke, Maine."

Ginny was quiet for a while, "Very clever, Hermione. So, I take it you're talking near muggles?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so," she replied, still careful to keep her voice light.

Ginny let out a bark of a laugh, "Oh, Hermione Granger, you should have been a Slytherin."

Hermione laughed as well, "Not on your life!"

"So, do you know what's going on yet?" asked Ginny.

"No. We'll get a better map and see if that helps," she responded.

"So, a book, then?" replied Ginny wryly.

"Yes. Maybe several. Could you watch the children for a few more days? This has thrown us off quite a bit."

"Of course, Hermione. What's family for?"

"Great, Ginny. Give the kids a hug and a kiss from us. We'll be back as soon as we can," Hermione hung up the phone and dialed again, intent upon speaking to her parents. The phone rang a few times before her father picked up.

"Hello?" he rasped into the receiver.

"Dad, it's me," she said, "Go have a drink of water or something, you sound terrible."

He chuckled, "I'm fine, Hermione. How's your family? Ron, Rose and Hugo?"

She smiled softly, "They're wonderful, Dad, thanks."

"Ginny called. Did they release you already?"

She took a deep breath, "No, Dad. Ron and I actually got a bit lost. We detoured to a town in Maine called Storybrooke."

There was silence on the other end of the line, "Dad?" she said.

"I wish that I could tell you, but I can't."

Hermione tried her hardest not to look worried, although she knew that Ron would see, "Tell me what, Dad?"

"I can't tell you. You have to find out on your own. Just know that I love you so, so much. So does your mother. "

"I know that, Dad."

He almost sounded pained, "Just promise me that you'll remember it. Sometimes it might be…hard."

"Okay, Dad."

"I can't say anymore. I love you, Hermione."

"I love you too, Daddy," she whispered.

She hung up the phone.

…

A/N- Please review!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three- To Midland Street

…

As Hermione hung up the phone, she could feel tears stinging at the back of her eyes. She rapidly blinked them back, not wanting to make a scene.

The sheriff stepped forward, "If you need a place to stay for the night, I can show you to the local bed and breakfast," Hermione rather liked the sheriff, this Emma Swann. She seemed less calculating than Mr. Gold...she also didn't look remotely like anyone Hermione was related to, so that was a bit of a plus.

"Yes, that would be lovely, thank you," Hermione glanced up under her eyelashes and saw Ron throw her a sidelong look. She shook her head ever so slightly. They would discuss it later.

The walk was short and silent, "Well, here we are," said Emma, gesturing to a building with a sign that creaked in the slight breeze. 'Granny's Bed and Breakfast', it read.

"Thanks so much," replied Hermione, wanting nothing more than for the admittedly lovely woman to get lost. She wanted to digest this unholy mess with Ron.

Emma smiled, "Of course. Stop by the station if you need anything."

"We will," Hermione said, "You've been so helpful, thank you."

Emma smiled and began her return to the sheriff's station. Hermione gestured for Ron to come with her into the building, where they were given a room key. Once they got into their room, they were careful to lock, ward, and _muffliato_ the door.

Ron wasted no time, "What was that about, 'Mione? I thought that we were going to figure out where we were and then portkey to a wizarding area so that we could get home. And what was up with you and your Dad? And that guy who _looks_ like your dad, blimey…"

Hermione was pacing the room, worrying her lip again, "I don't know, I don't know, I don't know! There's something more going on here…something strange. I'm not leaving until I figure out what it is. Dad seems to know what's going on, but won't tell me…Why!? If I ever needed to know something, it's right now."

Ron sighed, walking up to his wife to gently rub her shoulders, "So what now? We need money. We can't just go into this half-cocked."

She smiled, a more genuine smile than the one she'd been flashing about town for hours, "Oh, I know that," she said, "We are just going to have to go to Midland Street- it's Boston's Diagon Alley. We can go to Gringotts and pick up a few books- I was also thinking about going to the apothecary for potions ingredients."

Ron smiled. Even when she was going to pieces, Hermione was ahead of the game.

Hermione grabbed a small porcelain figurine off the nightstand, muttering _'Portus_' under her breath. The figurine glowed blue and Hermione smiled, pleased with her work. Ron touched a finger to the portkey and the pair were off.

…

They landed gently in a busy street, hidden from the rest of the city and began walking with one destination in mind; Gringotts. The pair walked inside the bank and walked up to the goblin-manned front desk.

Ron handled the transaction with little preamble, "Hello," he said, "We'd like to withdraw from our vault."

"Names?" asked the goblin, without looking up.

"Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger," he responded.

"Wands," replied the goblin, taking a moment to pass his hand over them before nodding, "Very well. Come with me," he hopped down from his tall stool and led them to a cart, much like those in London. Hermione and Ron rode down to a vault, which the goblin then unlocked and retrieved a not-unreasonable sum of gold.

When they returned to the foyer, Hermione asked the goblin, who had by then returned to the desk, "Can we exchange some of this for muggle money?"

"Of course, ma'am," said the goblin. He took the gold that Hermione offered and weighed it carefully, putting it away and giving her a sum of muggle money in return. Both Ron and Hermione thanked the goblin, who merely nodded in response, as they left.

"Bit of a rude little bugger, wasn't he?" Ron asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Honestly, Ronald, the poor thing was just doing his job."

"Suppose you're right," Ron conceded, "After all, can't expect everyone to get as worked up as a House Elf about their jobs."

Hermione pushed open the door to the bookshop and smiled involuntarily; of all the kinds of magic in the world, the special sort found amongst books was most definitely her favorite. A perky young witch walked up to them and asked if they needed any help.

"Do you have anything on blood magic?" asked Hermione, following a hunch.

The girl looked disconcerted, but thoughtful, "That's old magic. Some of the oldest. You'd likely find more on it if you were to go to a library. It's not something modern authors discuss much."

Herimione sighed, as if the shop girl had confirmed what she feared, "Well," she replied, resigned, "If you could just direct us to what you have, that would be wonderful."

The girl nodded and went on her way, seeming rather happy to help solve the puzzle. Meanwhile, Hermione perused the potions books, picking up a copy here and there to flip through. She returned most to the shelf, but a few she kept, intending to look at them further later.

"Here you go," said the shop girl, coming back towards them with several dusty tomes, "I'm afraid it's not much, but it's all that we have in stock."

Hermione gave the potions texts that she had been carrying to Ron, who accepted the pile with a slight 'ooph'. She poured through the first few pages of each text, seemingly satisfied.

"Thank you," she said, "These should work nicely."

The salesgirl beamed, "Can I check you out now, or would you like to browse a bit more?"

"No, I think that we have what we were looking for," replied Hermione.

The girl nodded leading them to the counter. Ron and Hermione spent a hefty sum on the books, but really, they had no other option. The pair needed information and they needed it quickly.

They ducked into the apothecary quickly before they left Midland Street; Hermione stocked up on potions ingredients that she thought might be useful. Then, finally, their business done, they left Midland Street and portkeyed back to the bed and breakfast in the strange little town in Maine.

…

"Not again," muttered Mary Margaret, her voice muffled; she was holding her face in her hands.

Emma nodded gravely, leaning against the wall in their cramped apartment, "It seems like it."

David shook his head, "Well, we knew that this could happen. The curse is broken. The town just shows up on a map now."

"They do just seem like hikers, they'll probably leave within a few days," sighed Emma, wistfully hoping that something might be as it seemed in this town.

"That's what we said about our Mr. Mendell," said Mr. Gold, startling everyone from the midst of the shadows that seemed to always envelop him, "He just seemed like a car crash victim. Yet he seems quite intent on staying."

"Just hold on a minute," said Neal, rising from his chair, "Why are a pair of lost hikers such a big deal?"

Mary Margaret looked up at him, "They aren't from our land, Neal."

"And…" he asked, still lost.

Mr. Gold sighed, looking at his son, "There's magic here, Bae. We can't just have them going off, spreading tales of a fantastical town hidden in the woods."

Neal nodded, feeling a bit foolish. It seemed that it had been quite a long time since he had thought about home after all.

"Well," said Emma, with some finality, "There's nothing that we can do about it tonight. If they stay longer than we think they should, then…well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

…

After making sure that their wards had not been disturbed, Ron and Hermione began to set up their improvised research lab inside their room at the inn; Ron resized the books they had bought and safely stowed away their money whilst Hermione busily began the construction of a makeshift potions lab near the window. Ron finished quickly and transfigured a few sundry objects around the room into parchment, quills and pots of ink, which he knew Hermione liked to have on hand when she was working.

Hermione quickly spelled them some pajamas and they both got into bed, exhausted. However, neither was going to sleep; Ron and Hermione had a long night of reading ahead of them before they would have their answers.

…

Hours later, both Ron and Hermione were still awake. At 3 o'clock in the morning, Hermione let out a massive squeak. Ron turned to her with bleary eyes, blinking sluggishly.

"What is it 'Mione?" he asked, through a massive yawn. He had never had his wife's verve when it came to massive research projects such as this.

"I-I think that I've found something," she said, still looking at the book in astonishment.

"Well, tell us, then," replied Ron still blinking sleep from his eyes.

"It's right here," she said, pointing to an entry in the massive text, "_Sanguine Tutelam,_" she muttered, becoming engrossed in the new mystery that the information represented, "_Sanguine Tutelam _is one of the most ancient forms of magic, going back further than recorded magical history. _Sanguine_ is not a spell, but a magical bond between family members, specifically parents and children. If one family member is in truly mortal danger, the other family member will be summoned from wherever they are in the world to protect them. This creates a magical bond between the two; the pair cannot separate without intention to return to one another until the danger has passed. It is especially notable because it applies not only to parents protecting their children but, in special circumstances, to children protecting their parents. It is something that happens naturally to all witches and wizards, not just those who have a magical parent."

Ron looked at her, "But that would mean…"

She shook her head, "I know, I know…but it's the only thing that makes sense. My dad knows more than he's telling…there's something else going on here."

"But it just doesn't-"

She let out a sarcastic laugh, "Make sense? Ronald, none of this does."

Ron sighed, "I think that I know what comes next."

Hermione nodded, her face resolute, "We have to find out if Mr. Gold is my father."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four- The Next Day

…

Hermione and Ron woke late the next morning, both shooting up in bed, afraid that they'd overslept. As they looked around their room, the events of the day before came back; both fell back, wondering what they should do next.

"Hey, 'Mione?" Ron asked after a while.

"Mmm?" she replied not opening her eyes.

"I was wondering about that thing…Sanguine To-"

She cut him off, "_Sanguine Tutelam._"

"Yeah, that. Anyway, why didn't it ever do anything for us? We got into loads of trouble at school and Mum and Dad never popped up at the front gates."

Hermione sat up, rubbing her eyes, "Well, I suppose it would have to do with the wards at the school. The Founders wouldn't have wanted parents from all over Britain coming to the school without their knowledge. I think that our Heads of House acted as surrogate parents while we were at Hogwarts- the responsibility of the _Sanguine _must haveshifted to them. Besides, Ron, you're the only one whose parents would have been affected by _Sanguine_. My parents are muggles, so it's very one-sided; only a person with magic can be summoned as a protector."

"Then why weren't my parents summoned to us when we were at the Ministry fifth year?" Ron asked.

"I'm not sure. My best guess would be that some of it had to do with your father having been bitten by Naiagi," Ron shuddered at the name of the foul creature, but Hermione went on, "His magic recognized that he wouldn't be able to protect you, which voided the _Sanguine_. Your mother was also taking care of your father at the time, so her magic recognized that as an obligation, reinforced by the magical vow that she made when she married…I think that she would have been called though, if the Order hadn't come so quickly. It put us in less danger and may have ultimately weakened the call of the _Sanguine_."

Ron shook his head. Hermione sighed, "I'm only guessing, of course. There are loads of special circumstances that affect whether or not someone gets called by the _Sanguine_; that's why it's so rare. Like I said before, you have to be healthy and sometimes other magical vows you've taken affect the outcome…it's also pretty clear that the protector has to be of age, as well."

"Well…" Ron asked, uncertain, "How rare is it, exactly?"

Hermione rubbed at her temples, "The last confirmed case was in the 1500's. But there could be more. It's not something people go trumpeting about."

Ron looked confused, "Why? You'd just have been protecting your family."

Hermione shook her head, "It's not that simple, Ron."

Ron's eyebrows rose slowly, as he began to catch on, "Another condition of the _Sanguine_?"

Hermione nodded, "The other person has to be truly in need of your help; they must be without other options. No one likes to advertise that they were the only thing between a loved one and death- you never know what's lurking in the wings."

Ron shook his head in disbelief, "Wow," he said, "So this is for real, then."

Hermione's smile was watery, "Quite," she replied.

…

Eventually, Ron and Hermione managed to make their way to Granny's diner for a late breakfast. In the excitement of the previous day, they had put the idea of hunger aside, but now it had returned with a vengeance. When the waitress came to take their orders, Ron very nearly told her to bring him all the bacon and eggs they had. However, at a look from Hermione, he settled on an omelet and a full stack of pancakes served with a large orange juice and tea. Hermione rolled her eyes (although, today, her own hunger could rival Ron's own on any normal day of the week) and simply ordered pancakes with a side of sausage and a coffee.

The two waited for their food in silence, not knowing what to do with themselves. The things that weighed on their minds certainly weren't appropriate to talk about in this restaurant full of muggles. As luck would have it, (good luck or bad luck…now that was a matter of opinion) Mr. Gold soon broke their silence by coming over to their table.

"Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger," he said with that thin smile that made Hermione so uneasy, "How are you enjoying our quiet little town?"

Ron smiled; a charming, disarming smile that he used quite a bit when he was helping George with the shop, "We think it's wonderful, Mr. Gold. Absolutely charming."

Mr. Gold seemed indifferent as he replied, "Well, that's excellent. And where will you be heading off to after this? Boston, I presume?"

Hermione nodded, "I suppose so," she said, "There's not really much closer, is there?"

Mr. Gold nodded in benign agreement, but she thought she caught a Machiavellian glint in his eye as he asked, "So, when do you plan to leave our fair town?"

Hermione tried her best to remain nonchalant in her response, "Oh, soon enough, I expect. I think that we might soak up a bit of the local flavor, though, before we leave," she said before deciding to chance a bit of light impertinence, "Why, Mr. Gold? Eager to be rid of us?"

Oh, how she wanted to see him squirm.

She saw their waitress…Ruby, she thought her name was…coming out of the kitchen, her tray burdened with a near mind-boggling amount of food.

Hermione looked Gold in the eye, the image of prim propriety; "If you would like to join Ron and I for breakfast, Mr. Gold, you are perfectly welcome, but otherwise…" she trailed off delicately allowing him to fill in the blanks.

Gold inclined his head and made his way to the counter for a cup of coffee, his intention for coming here in the first place. Privately, very privately, he was impressed; few people in the town would dare to put him in his place, and none had ever done so with quite so much delicacy as the woman who now sat eating breakfast with her husband.

He would, indeed, be keeping tabs on Miss Granger.

…

Three rapid knocks sounded at the door of the rather crowded Charming family apartment. A series of locks were undone and a door was thrown open to reveal the face of one Emma Swann.

"Miss Swann," said Mr. Gold, looking her directly in the eye, "Not at the sheriff's station today, I see."

To her credit, Emma did not drop her gaze, "David's on today," she replied, leaning against the doorframe, her voice even, "What can I help you with?"

Gold sighed, "May I?" he asked, making a sweeping gesture towards her apartment.

Emma rolled her eyes, "Fine," she said, leading him into the cramped flat. He took a seat, carefully setting aside his cane.

"We have to talk about that couple," he said bluntly.

Emma gave him a hard look, "I thought the matter was resolved."

"I spoke to them earlier," he replied gruffly, "They have no intention of leaving, at least not soon."

Emma's eyebrows twisted in worry, although her voice remained firm, "Well, what do you suggest we do?"

Mr. Gold shrugged modestly, "I have a contingency plan that brings harm to neither of us. If they are truly lost hikers, then we let them stay unhindered, with the added peace of knowing who they are."

Emma still looked worried, "I'm going to need more specifics than that, Gold."

He huffed, "I merely am suggesting that we go through their things."

Emma's brow relaxed slightly, "When?"

Gold shrugged, "While they sleep, of course."

"What?!" Emma shrieked, "Are you insane!? That's-"

"You forget, we have magic, Miss Swann," he scoffed, producing a small glimmering bottle of dust, "A sprinkling of this will produce the deepest of sleeps for as long as the user requires."

Emma looked at him for a long while, weighing her options, "Fine," she said at last, "We'll do it tonight."

…

After their large meal, Ron and Hermione took a brief walk before they returned to their room to begin a long day of brewing and research. With the window open wide, Hermione immediately set to work brewing a caldronful of a basic paternity potion and Ron began leafing through their collection of books to see if he could find anything more on _Sanguine Tutelam_. It was slow-going for them both; Ron was more focused than he had ever been the need to find out what, exactly, was binding his wife here and Hermione hovered over her potion compulsively- the last thing they needed was a potions accident in a muggle town.

Eventually, after a quick dinner of sandwiches, the pair decided to make an early night of it and go to bed. There would be a lot to discuss in the morning, not the least of which would be how to get samples of blood from Mr. Gold and Lacey. They changed for bed, Hermione leaving the paternity potion to cool to the dark aubergine described in the text and Ron raising the additional wards that they had decided on using while they slept. Finally the pair went the bed.

…

Ron and Hermione woke to a loud _crack_, like splitting oak. Instinctively, both wizards grabbed their wands, casting _lumos_ spells so they could see what had set off their wards. To their mutual surprise, they found five bodies handing helpless and stiff in the air by their ankles.

"Bloody hell," Ron cursed under his breath.

…

A/N- I've been updating this story at a really stellar pace (surprising to anyone who has ever dealt with my normally sporadic updating) and I am really quite curious to know; is this something that's primarily going out to people who enjoy Potter or OUAT? Are there things that you'd like to see? Stuff you'd like resolved? I'm new to the crossover game, so any little bit helps!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five- Breaking and Entering

A/N- For those of you who are curious as to why Hermione is going by her maiden name; it's seriously just honest to god personal preference. I've always thought of Hermione as someone who's very independent and something of a feminist; JKR has never addressed it one way or the other. So, yeah…keeping her name just struck me as something that Hermione would do.

…

Hermione rather shared Ron's sentiment. She quickly turned on the bedside lamps so that they could have better light than their wands provided.

They then carefully scrutinized the upside-down faces before them, three of whom were unfamiliar. Hermione was surprised to recognize the sheriff amongst them. She was thoroughly less surprised to see Mr. Gold; she supposed that he wanted them gone more than she'd anticipated.

"I see we meet again, Mr. Gold," she said coolly. Ron had gone to close the door; she supposed that they had picked the lock.

Hermione sighed and rubbed her temples; it was really too early for this.

"Now, listen to me very carefully," she lectured her captives, "I am going to put you in a seated position and unpetrify you all from your shoulders up," she looked each in the eye to make sure that they understood, "Please don't shout, as I have warded the room against sound and I will be forced to petrify you again," she said, feeling a bit like a very polite Bond villain, "I will explain everything to all of you," Ron gave her a look and she shrugged, "As it seems like only telling one of you would be an exercise in futility."

She sighed…well, this wasn't quite how she wanted things to go. She flicked her wand and prepared for the onslaught.

"What's going o-"

"Who-"

"Just how-"

"What are you-"

"Quiet," hissed Hermione, wishing, not for the first time, that she had Severus Snape's skill of quiet intimidation. However, for whatever reason, her demand was met. She looked at Ron, at a complete loss.

"Ask them something," Ron mouthed.

"Right, let's get to it then," she said, doing her best to keep a quaver out of her voice, "What is this place?"

"Just a town," replied the sheriff, wincing, as though she knew how ridiculous she sounded.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Oh, please," she replied, exhausted, "Spare me."

"You wouldn't believe us if we told you," muttered the scruffily bearded man who floated next to Emma.

Hermione yawned widely, "Try me."

A slight, dark-haired woman replied, "We- we aren't exactly from around here," she said looking distinctly uncomfortable.

Hermione snorted, "Nor are we."

A tan, rather muscular fellow intervened, "Yes…but we're…really not from around here," he finished lamely.

"Didn't realize it was a competition," interjected Ron, who had sat himself on the edge of the bed.

"Really, must we be so uncivilized? Let us down, Miss Granger," said Mr. Gold in a patronizing, faux-exasperated tone that Hermione found unbearably irritating.

"I think that civilized went off the table when you lot picked the locks on our door," Ron said, looking severe.

"I don't believe that comment was directed at you, Mr. Weasley."

"And I don't believe that you're in any sort of position to be so cavalier," retorted Hermione, her voice sickly sweet and laced with annoyance.

"Look, just let us go. People will notice we're missing," said Emma, her voice tinged with desperation.

Ron actually laughed out loud, "We're not keeping you here, mate."

Hermione nodded, a slight smile now making her face a good deal less grave, "Just answer our questions and we'll let you go on your way. So…just how far away is 'really not from around here'?"

The dark-haired woman spoke again, looking at all of the others with a sigh, "We're from another land- a land that might not make sense to you."

Both Ron and Hermione snorted.

The tan guy took up her line of narration, "Our land is a place entirely unlike your world- it's a land of magic."

Again, Hermione and Ron snorted, although not for the reasons their captives would assume.

"It's true," said Emma, seemingly a bit late to the party, "They have ogres and giants as well."

"And faeries!" broke in the scruffy guy next to her, "And dwarves!"

All four seemed eager to convince them of the existence of this fantastic land- all except Mr. Gold. He held his own council, and only spoke up after a pronounced silence.

"But our land now suffers from a curse," he said, his tone grave, "A curse that, by and large, destroyed it. We, its inhabitants, are cursed to live here, in your world, a land without magic."

Hermione and Ron looked at each other and Ron finally, slowly, broke the silence, "But…this isn't a land without magic."

"What?" shrieked all five people who floated before them. Even Gold appeared shocked.

He shook his head, "Hermione's a witch. I'm a wizard. There are loads more like us in the world. Magic isn't common by any stretch of the imagination, but the magical community still numbers into the hundreds of thousands throughout the world, if not into the millions."

Hermione nodded, "We have our own magical creatures as well; some would strike you as quite familiar."

The dumbfounded looks spoke for themselves.

Emma sputtered, "But-but…why?"

Hermione sighed, rubbing her temples, hating how long this night had been in the very depths of her soul, "Ron and I are here quite by accident…well, not entirely by accident, but not of our own volition, in any case," she took a deep breath, finding this more difficult than she thought, "I have to fulfill a magical bond, a bond that obliges me to protect my parents."

After a long, tense silence, the slight woman interrupted, "But, your parents can't live here! It's a…small community."

Hermione laughed aloud, rather mirthlessly, at the description, "Oh, don't worry, I think that I already know who they are."

"What?" gasped Emma.

Hermione nodded, "And I can find out right now, I believe," she said, her eyes settling on the cauldron in the corner. She quickly conjured a penknife and a potions phial. Walking up to Mr. Gold, she used the knife to nick his thumb; he winced as she added a few drops of his blood to the potions phial.

"What-" he said, quite at a loss for words.

"Oh, hush," Hermione murmured, closing the wound with a flick of her wand. She walked over to the cauldron and, carefully, so as not to spill a drop, poured a bit of the potion into the phial. She took a deep breath; at last she could complete the final step. The room was entirely silent. Hermione sliced her own palm, feeding her own blood into the potion.

And she waited.

Slowly, almost agonizingly so, the potion turned from a dark aubergine to a lurid pink. Hermione smiled grim satisfaction.

"Well," she said, "That's one bit done, I suppose."

…

A/N- Hope that you enjoyed it!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six-

A/N- I'd like to take a moment to thank everyone who has taken the time to read my story. It truly touches me that so many people (from so many places) are interested in what started out as nothing more than a bit of an out-there concept. Your interest and readership truly drives me to be a better author. Thank you.

Sakura Lisel- The OUAT chacters are pushing the whole 'magic is real' thing because accepting the idea that this 'world without magic' actually has magic that they didn't bring to it is something to get used to. So, as consequence, they're pitching Hermione and Ron the idea of their world like they would to any other outsider. Hermione and Ron are a little weirded out by this fervent pitching of magic (they are effectively thinking the same thing you were), but they ultimately have bigger fish to fry, so they let it go. Hope that helps!

…

"What is that?" asked Mr. Gold, shooting Hermione the most imposing glare he could muster.

Hermione was unfazed, "That, Mr. Gold, confirms that you are indeed my father." Both Hermione and Ron had achieved an almost sickly pallor; suspicion, even strong suspicion, was one thing…confirmation was quite another.

Even the air in the room seemed to go still. Everyone was utterly silent.

Once what Hermione had said had properly sunk in, Mr. Gold began to sputter indignantly, "That's impossible!" he scoffed, "There is no way that I could possibly have a daughter, especially not one so old as you!"

If she had a bit more energy, she might have found the will to be insulted.

The short-haired brunette (Hermione would need to find out her name) interrupted gently, "Just how old are you?"

"Thirty-two," she replied, her manner distracted.

The five captives all shared knowing glances before Emma finally spoke up, "Well, we- the people here, in this town- have only been here for twenty-eight years."

To their surprise, Hermione appeared unconcerned with this rather glaring contradiction. In fact, she appeared almost dreamy as she asked, "Have you ever heard of time travel, Mr. Gold?"

He did not hesitate to snort, "Nonsense."

Hermione shrugged, fingering the phial, "I don't know how magic works where you come from…but people in the wizarding community of this world have come up with multiple methods of time travel," she said, matter-of-fact, "It's heavily regulated, of course, but its use is not entirely unheard of."

Gold was livid. In a deadly, dangerous voice, he hissed, "This. Is. Impossible."

Barely sparing Gold a glance, Hermione asked, "The time-travel or just me?"

"Both!" he shouted, beyond furious, his face bright red, his carefully composed control quickly evaporating.

Ron gave him a half-quirked smile, "You sure about that mate?" he asked. In the Weasley family, at least, children were usually considered more 'happy accidents' than 'planned occurrences'.

Gold began to give him a look that could undoubtedly set fires…but then his face went blank. He began to chew his lip, looking remarkably like Hermione did when she was nervous.

Neal was the first to realize what was going on, his mouth forming a perfect 'o'. Gold didn't notice- his eyes went wide as he thought back to a night about a week before.

…

"_Mr. Gold!" shrieked Lacey. He turned around, shocked, his cane held above his head. Shit. He hadn't really expected her to return after that disaster. She looked to the ground, seeing her paramour broken, bruised and bloody._

_A wicked smile slowly crept across her lips, "You really are as dark as they say," she purred, her smile seductive. _

_A manic grin made its way across his features as he laid into the man on the ground once again, all for the pleasure of the woman now standing beside him. After all, if Belle wasn't coming back, he could at least stand to integrate himself with Lacey._

_A few hours later, they were carelessly shutting the door to Gold's bedroom in his apartment above the pawn shop. They pawed at each other hungrily and ripped off their clothes indiscriminately; there was no pretense of foreplay, no semblance of romance…the pair seemed to silently agree that they were simply here for sex. With little preamble, the pair gave themselves over to mutual carnal pleasure._

…

Gold cursed himself relentlessly for his carelessness. He swore vehemently under his breath and proceeded to clear his throat, looking up at Hermione reluctantly.

"There may be a- ah –slight possibility of my being your father," he admitted grudgingly, ignoring his companions' startled looks.

Hermione was now perched on the bed, all of her fire gone. She just nodded grimly.

An almost palpable awkwardness settled over the room before Gold broke it by clearing his throat, "So…what do we do now?" It nearly made him gag, to sound so weak.

Hermione and Ron both laughed; short, humorless little chuckles. Ron was the one to speak up, "Hell if we know, mate."

Hermione sighed and rubbed her face, noting absently that dawn was beginning to creep over the horizon, "Alright," she said, exhaustion evident in her voice, "I think that it's high time we let you down," and with a flick of her wand, the five men and women landed in a moaning heap on the floor. Hermione winced.

"Sorry," she said, "There isn't really a way to do it gently."

All five seemed to accept her apology as they stretched their sore muscles and got to their feet. She waited patiently and conjured five extra chairs.

Her voice was worn and her smile a bit forced as she said, "I was hoping that we could have a more civil conversation before you left."

The group looked at each other and there was, eventually, a collective nodding.

Hermione nodded, pleased, "Please, sit," she said, gesturing to the chairs behind them, waiting for everyone to get settled.

"Now," she said, "I don't believe that we ever properly introduced ourselves…I'm Hermione Granger, and this is my husband, Ron Weasley. Of course, we already know Mr. Gold and Sheriff Swann…"

The thin, short-haired woman smiled, "I'm Mary Margaret," she said and proceeded to gesture to the well-built man next to her, "And this is my husband, David. We're Emma's parents."

Hermione's laugh was wan, "I'd call bollocks, but I'm really in no position to judge," Ron nodded in silent agreement. There was a long silence that was eventually broken by the sloppily good-looking fellow standing next to Emma.

"Ah, yeah," he said, scratching the back of his neck, wanting to be anywhere but there, "I'm Neal. Emma and I know each other from…" he trailed off awkwardly, looking to Emma for help.

Her voice was flat as she finished his sentence, "Sex."

Neal winced.

Gold chimed in, looking Hermione dead in the eye, "Neal is also my son."

Neal winced again.

Hermione felt as if she had suddenly forgotten how to breathe and bile rose in the back of her throat; this, she hadn't been expecting.

…

A/N- So, yes, I'm sorry that this took so long to get out (and, honestly, would have taken longer if I wasn't being kept up all night by my allergies), but I've been having to deal with a bunch of real world nonsense (like finals…and writer's block…yuck). In any case, my apologies…next chapter might take a while as well. Review!


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